


better than the ruins we've always dreamed of

by draagonfly



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Malfore the fake shepherd is there too, but he doesn't even have a character tag so I won't bother, kind of, museum intern!Mikleo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draagonfly/pseuds/draagonfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no better place to meet the boy of your dreams than at the museum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better than the ruins we've always dreamed of

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about museums, or internships..... or archaeology.....
> 
> I'm putting this up mostly to gauge interest, as it's my first attempt at writing sormik and I'm not confident I'll be able to do them justice..  
> so please leave a comment and tell me what you think! ^^ I promise I'll think of a better title ;;

_“We’re worried about you, Sorey.”_

Those were the words that echoed in his mind as he weaved through the crowds on the city street. He didn’t think he had really done anything to warrant his friends’ worries, but that was probably the heart of the problem. He didn’t do anything.

_“When you’re not in class, you’re either in the lab or at the library. You need to go out and actually do something before you really become a hermit.”_

And he had tried. He really truly gave it his best yesterday, though thinking back, it really wasn’t that great of a plan in the first place. It had seemed a great idea at the time – bars were full of all sorts of people, and liquor tended to make people extra friendly if one went by Zaveid’s example. So Sorey went to a bar, if only to pacify the worries of his friends. They only wanted the best for him.

He thought his idea had paid off when not halfway through the virgin cocktail he was drinking – the name of which had escaped him the second he had learned it – a girl started chatting with him. She seemed genuinely interested in their conversation, even though it was pretty hard to hear anything over the thumping music. Sorey figured that accounted for their proximity, since they had to lean in pretty close if they wanted to be heard without yelling. The touching seemed pretty normal too. Rose especially was pretty touchy-feely when she was drinking too, so Sorey thought nothing of it.

Had he actually been to a bar like this before, he would’ve realized something was amiss when she led him to a smaller, quieter room in the back. He thought she had gotten tired to trying to talk over the music and other patrons, and so had found somewhere better suited for conversation but then –

There must have been some sort of miscommunication somewhere, because suddenly she was on his lap, kissing him and she was a very pretty girl but that was just not the type of friendship Sorey was looking for right now.

He called it a night after that, with a promise to himself to try again tomorrow, which was now today.

Maybe it was cheating, and maybe he had just really been wanting to go for a while, but a museum was definitely a lot different than a library. If he was using this as an excuse to indulge himself, well, two birds with one stone.

_~~~_

_Asgardian Era? Impossible, there’s no way. I wonder who labeled this exhibit? They must have gotten mixed up, maybe I should find them and tell them –_

“I’ve already told them, but you’re welcome to try, if you’d like.”

Sorey jumped about 3 feet in the air, caught completely off guard by the voice of the stranger who had apparently snuck up on him. He swiveled around to come face to face with arguably the most beautiful person he had ever met in his life (including Lailah, his best friend who was a descendent of the seraphim and generally accepted as the standard for ethereal beauty, or so he had heard). This stranger also clearly had seraphic genes – white hair tied into a high ponytail, pale skin and lavender eyes that were just slightly too bright to be fully human.

The stranger, obviously all too used to awe-struck stares, waited patiently for Sorey to come back to himself.

“S-sorry!” Realizing he had been staring a little too long, Sorey quickly apologized. “Wait, told who, what? …Was I talking out loud again? Sorry.”

“Yes, you were, the other guests were complaining about a weirdo mumbling to himself by the seraphic artifacts.” His tone was chastising, but not actually annoyed, for which Sorey was grateful. It would be a shame to be kicked out when he hadn’t even seen all of the exhibit yet. Though, if he had to be escorted away, he was glad it would be by this person – Mikleo, his name tag said. “And I meant the person in charge of the exhibit. I told them the inscription was clearly from much later, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“You think so too?” Despite his less than stellar first impression, Sorey found himself getting excited having found someone who shared his interest in ancient history. He consciously forced down a grin, not wanting to scare the person – Mikleo – off so soon. “What makes you think so?”

“Well, the inscription itself is commonly found in the Asgardian Era, but it’s the way it was inscribed that spells of a later period.” As he spoke, Mikleo pointed out the spot that Sorey had been looking at a moment ago. “The roughness of the carving suggests it was carved with a hand tool by a human –“

“Which wouldn’t have happened in the Asgardian Era when the seraphim would have carved it out with their artes. It’s possible the rough texture came after the fact, during the years it was left in a ruin before being excavated, but –“

“It was found underwater, which should have made it smoother, not rougher. Exactly. Of course it’s possible that a human from the Asgardian Era carved it themselves, however it’s very unlikely –“

“Because the seraphs hadn’t yet disappeared, so what reason would a human have to try to imitate a seraphic arte with such rudimentary tools? Sure, it could’ve been for personal use, but –“

“That would be like you painting an imitation of a Monet and trying to pass it off as original.”

Sorey thought he should be offended by that last remark, but he couldn’t find it in himself at the moment. During their exchange, both of them had grown increasingly more animated and Sorey couldn’t force the smile off his face now if he tried. Mikleo seemed to be of the same feeling, if a bit more subdued, but the small smile and sparkle behind his eyes gave him away.

Before Sorey could begin to really appreciate the expression, it was gone and a carefully neutral look replaced it.

“Come with me.” Mikleo offered no explanation and turned to walk deeper into the museum. His tone was all business, and Sorey followed out of a sense of compulsion.

“Where are we -?”

“Just follow.”

Trusting that Mikleo meant no ill will – no one with such a benevolent aura could ever be intentionally malicious – Sorey ignored his curiosity for now and walked along obediently. He had to consciously force himself to walk past a lot of the artifacts, keeping his eyes focused on the swish of Mikleo’s ponytail (which he now noticed faded to a pale aquamarine at the ends – his ancestor must have been a water seraph). Briefly he wondered how Mikleo could have such knowledge and interest in history and not be compelled to stop and examine every display, but then he noticed Mikleo’s eyes would linger in certain places, brisk pace slowing just slightly as he observed his favorites in passing. Sorey realized he was probably carefully controlling himself too so as to not get distracted, a feeling he understood all too well. He mentally noted each display that caught Mikleo’s eye, planning to return to give each their due consideration.

Mikleo navigated them through a few exhibition rooms, and then through a door tucked into a corner reading ‘MUSEUM PERSONEL ONLY’. It gave Sorey a feeling of importance, that he was considered worthy of entering such a place, even though it was likely only conference rooms and offices. The museum wouldn’t keep anything of value in an unlocked, unguarded hallway. Sorey wondered if he would ever be allowed in the sort of area that did, and felt his heartbeat speed up at the thought.

He was so distracted with thoughts of secret museum treasures that he didn’t notice Mikleo had stopped in front of one of the doors until he walked straight into him.

“Oh, sorry!” He quickly took a step back and shrunk into himself at the look Mikleo gave him, mostly disdain but definitely tinted with amusement.

“Remind me not to let you into the basement, lest you get even more distracted and walk straight into a wall of ancient pottery.”

Sorey’s eyes widened and he quickly jumped to defend himself, hands waving in front of his face with enthusiasm. “I-I would never -!”

But Mikleo was already pushing open the door and announcing their arrival to whoever was inside.

“Malfore? We’re coming in.”

“We?” A voice called from inside the room. “Mikleo, you know guests aren’t allowed back here.”

“It’s not like we’re hiding anything important in a conference room.” Mikleo waved off the protests and pushed the door open further, allowing Sorey a view of the inside.

It was just as nondescript as he imagined – a short, plain man sat at a plain round conference table, surrounded by uneven stacks of papers in various states of disarray and an old hunk of a laptop sitting precariously close to the edge of the table.

The man called Malfore sighed and pushed himself away from the table to face the two boys directly. “Anyway, I trust you have a reason for violating protocol so blatantly?”

A combination of the way Malfore subtly disregarded him and the less subtle points about breaking the rules made any excitement Sorey had about being here dissipate. “Um, maybe I should just…”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo’s violet eyes were trained on him again, effectively erasing any thoughts he had of leaving. Sorey would enter a hundred restricted areas if it meant Mikleo would keep looking at him, and he wondered if this what everyone called ‘love at first sight’. “He just has to act like he cares about the rules in front of guests, no one will get in trouble.”

Seemingly used to Mikleo’s attitude, Malfore removed his wire-framed glasses and rubbed a hand over his face like this conversation was already taking a lot out of him. “What is it, Mikleo?”

“It’s about that inscription, the one that –“

“The one that you’ve been talking about for weeks now?” Malfore interrupted with a look that said he was done with this conversation. “I’ve told you a hundred times, there’s just no evidence for your claims.”

“There’s plenty of evidence!”

“And even if there was,” he continued as though Mikleo hadn’t even spoken, which made Sorey irrationally upset. “The amount of paperwork and analysis it would require to change one word on that display that none of these clueless guests will even notice just isn’t worth it. This all costs money, you know.”

“Well, one of those ‘clueless guests’ did notice.” Mikleo gestured back towards Sorey, still standing a few feet back, trying not to involve himself too much. The feeling that he should be offended returned when he was called ‘clueless’, but he didn’t bother trying to argue it. There was enough tension to saturate the room already.

Another sigh left Malfore as he was finally forced to acknowledge the trespasser. “And this is…?”

“Um.” Mikleo’s hesitation reminded Sorey that he had never actually introduced himself. Internally kicking himself for his rudeness, he stepped forward.

“Sorey. It’s nice to meet you.” He looked at both Malfore and Mikleo in turn and his stomach did a flip at the small twitch of a smile on Mikleo’s lips.

The fact that Mikleo hadn’t known Sorey’s name didn’t escape Malfore’s notice, granting Sorey a look of suspicion. “Likewise. Well, I don’t know how you got this stranger to go along with your idea, but it doesn’t matter.”

“I didn’t have to convince him of anything. He was mumbling to himself about mislabeled displays and when I asked him about it, he gave the same reasoning as I have been.”

Sorey pouted a little, feeling like the comment about his mumbling was unnecessary. It was probably payback for bumping into him in the hallway, which he guessed was fair, but he silently bemoaned becoming ‘the airheaded guy who talks to himself in museums’ in Mikleo’s mind. He had never been great at first impressions.

“Mikleo, I understand, I really do, but unless you want to fund this reanalysis yourself…” Malfore tapered off at the look on Mikleo’s face. Sorey wondered just how much such a thing could possibly cost. “That’s what I thought. I can file a request, but until we get another donation, it’s going to stay as it is.”

Mikleo’s mood dampened with every word, and Sorey decided that he could not allow such a beautiful face to be so tainted with disappointment. At that moment, he had an idea.

“You guys are affiliated with Hyland University right?” Both Mikleo and Malfore looked back at him, equal parts surprised that Sorey had spoken up again, and confused at the question. Malfore was the one to respond.

“We are, though not closely. A lot of our interns come from them. Why?” Realization dawned on Mikleo’s face, and Sorey thought that hope suited him much better than his previous downcast mood.

“What if you sent it over to their archeology department? Let them do all the work of reanalysis, and then just replace the display information to read their findings. Though it won’t be as official or scientifically accurate as if a professional had handled it.”

Mikleo’s expression became contemplating, which was still a big step up from the frustration from earlier, but Malfore seemed skeptical.

“And when the students submit their findings?”

“Whatever they conclude will be what is displayed with the artifact. You can call it a collaboration with the University. And you never have to hear Mikleo argue about it again.” Sorey purposely kept his eyes trained on Malfore, but he could still feel Mikleo’s glare burning into the side of his face. It took a lot of willpower – he really wanted to see what Mikleo looked like when he was angry.

“That is very tempting…” Malfore thought for a moment, and then nodded his assent. “I’ll have to clear it with upper management, but I think they’ll like the idea. A collaboration with the University has a lot of potential, even a small one like this, and patrons do love to see the young folks doing something useful for the community… Alright, Sorey, you’ve convinced me. I’ll put in the request tomorrow morning.” With those final words, he turned back to the papers in front him, shoving the laptop even farther off the edge of the table. “Mikleo, I believe you have a job to be doing.”

Mikleo turned away with a huff and Sorey followed him out of the conference room and closed the door behind them. Then he turned and finally levelled a glare directly at Sorey.

“So your brilliant idea was to pass off the decision to a bunch of college students? What are you going to do when they get it wrong, and neither of us is allowed to argue about it?” Unimpressed was the best descriptor Sorey could come up with to describe the look Mikleo was giving him, and even that looked good on him (there was probably not a single expression that didn’t look good on him though). Despite Mikleo’s annoyance, Sorey smiled confidently.

“They won’t get it wrong.” Annoyance gave way to surprise and then disbelief, and Sorey was right that each complimented Mikleo in their own way.

“How can you be so sure? They’re college students, Sorey.”

“Hey, their archeology department isn’t that bad. They only let the upperclassmen work with valuable artifacts like that. And besides,” Sorey’s grin grew even wider, “I’ll be on the analysis team too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorey is smitten, someone save that poor boy


End file.
